The Six Swans
by Charmaine Blandings
Summary: My version of one of my favorite fairy tales
1. Lost in the Woods

It was a mistake; he knew it now. Rubbing his left thigh, he sighed and reflected on his brashness. That he was fifty and a grandfather was reason alone to have refrained from pursuing the stag. Now, he felt his age in every fiber of his being. With every step, his legs burned and tightened. He knew that it was no use to attempt to find his way back; it was getting dark and he had spent, most likely, several hours trying to find the trail.

Sighing heavily, Tobias eased his aching body onto a large tree root jutting out of the ground. It was low enough for Tobias to feel apprehensive about ever getting up again; he was glad his courtiers were not with him. The effort and clumsiness involved in rising again were not a spectacle of which he would be proud.

He began to knead into the muscles of his thigh. They were hard and every stroke was sore and painful. Tobias gritted his teeth and continued to massage. Gradually, the muscles loosened. They were still immensely sore, but there was great relief in the absence of tension. As he started on his other leg, Tobias considered his plight. It appeared that he would need to create some sort of shelter for the night. He was grateful that his saddlebag held some provisions and a blanket, but he prepared himself for an uncomfortable sleep.

Gazing around him once again, he groaned with exhasperation. Even if he could find his way out of this forest, it would not be for a few days at least. If all the stories were true, he knew he could go ahead and prepare to never see his home or his seven children again. Although he always had tossed aside such stories as 'mere tales' or 'fodder for the foolish', he now realized the truth in them. For the forest, however magical it be, was indeed large and intricate. Massive trunks, twisting roots, encroaching brush; it all combined to form a most impossible maze.

"Ah, well," he sighed again and looked about for a spread of moss or grass upon which to lie. Finding a relatively soft, although somewhat damp, area, Tobias grunted and lowered himself onto it. It would be a long night.


	2. A New Morning

A sharp pain shot through his neck; Tobias groaned. If it was at all possible, he was even more sore this morning than he had been the night before. Blinking against the golden sunlight that was sifted through the dense canopy of tree tops, he began to attempt to stand up. His horse, Polonius, whinnied softly at his master's rising. Tobias stroked the horse's mane and muttered, "Well, I suppose we ought to begin to search for an exit."

The forest was less menacing in the morning light; birds were chirping gaily and the shafts of sunlight shone on the golden leaves. Tobias breathed deeply of the rich air, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. He stopped short in his tracks when they opened again. A woman was standing before him.

Her tanned face was furrowed with countless wrinkles. It had an aged, weathered look to it. Beady, grey eyes peered at him from beneath sporadic, wiry eyebrows. Upon seeing him, the hag's mouth opened in a smile, revealing a suprisingly full set of white teeth. She chuckled as she reached to let down her hood. Her fingers were stubby and rough, the nails short. Her hair, like her eyebrows, was wiry yet dense. It was a silver hue that glistened somewhat in the light.

Resting her chin on the staff she held between her hands, she viewed the king, "Ah, you have gotten yourself into a predicament, haven't you, son?" She seemed very amused with his plight, relishing in his bewilderment.

"Are you familiar with these woods, madam? I would be extremely grateful if you would be willing to show me the way out. I can give you..."

"Money is not necessary," she held up a hand in refusal, "I am familiar with this forest, for I have lived here for seventy years." Grinning again, she added, "These trees deceive you in their tangled arrangement. You have never been more than a few hundred yards away from the edge of the forest."

Tobias grunted in frustrated realization, "So this forest is run by magic after all?"

"Oh, yes. There is no way out for you now." She chuckled softly, "Unless, of course, you do one thing for me."

Desperate, and in full trust that she was speaking the truth of his inability to escape, Tobias answered, "I will."


	3. Fulfilling the Vow

It had taken hours to reach the hag's home. At least, the increase of darkness had indicated that. Apprehensive, Tobias reflected on his decision. He knew that without agreeing to take the witch's daughter for his wife, he would die in those woods. However, he was not convinced that the alternative could be much more desirable. It was only for his children's sake that he had agreed.

Tobias entered the dark hut with caution; he could sense magic as if it pulsed through the air. He didn't like it. Anything that could control him was detestable to him; he prided himself on his strength over any vice whether it be wine or women. Now, he felt an enchantment waiting to pounce on him at any moment as the musky smell of the place filled his nostrils.

Sitting by the hearth, the fire appearing to be the source of the enchanting smell, was a young woman. For an instant, Tobias no longer felt apprehension. He was entranced with the beauty of this fair creature. But, he soon came to his senses; could this person be called fair? Beautiful, she certainly was. Her hair was bright red, thick, and flowing and reflected the dancing flames behind her. She wore a velvety garment of deep, earthy green that fell below her shoulders, revealing remarkably smooth skin of a creamy hue. When Tobias stopped before her, she turned her head to look upon him. He then knew that she was not of the fair folk. Though almost enchantingly beautiful, her face caused his own to turn a sickly pallor. The face and eyes that transfixed his own were no less beautiful than the rest of her; on the contrary, they were perhaps more so. They were the eyes of a sorceress.

Tobias had felt none of the fear he had now upon meeting this creature's mother. The knowledge that the old hag was indeed a witch caused no trembling in his body. She was harmless; her magic probably slight and certainly could never be called utterly wicked. Her daughter, on the other hand, almost made him feel that her mother wanted to be free of this evil creature. It was not just the air of magic that surrounded her; there was somethig else. Something much more unnerving: a sense that she _knew_. She knew that he was coming. There was nothing in her expression that suggested surprise at his coming, or the searching look given to a new acquaintence. All the familiarity in the world gazed onto him. Tobias suppressed a shudder as her lips parted slightly in a smile.

"Daughter," the wizened hag croaked her words, "This is your husband. Have you prepared?"

"Yes, mother." The voice was sweet and smooth as her red lips, but seemed to sting as a scorpion. The tall, lithe figure rose from the chair and glided towards him. Reaching out her hand, she spoke to him, "I am Fiammetta." Without another word, they passed through the oppressive, dim room and into the clear, cool air of night.


	4. Molly

Molly gazed at the tiny bird with a combination of envy and longing. Its fluttering, delicate wings allowed it to soar: uninhibited, free. All she wanted was to be free; the irony of it produced a laugh. As a princess, one would assume that anything she desired would be hers. And here she was, without the one thing she truly desired. Gently, she stroked Hala, who purred contentedly and arched her back. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sweet chirping of the birds and felt the softness of Hala's fur. The noises of two of her romping brothers broke her daydreaming.

"Matty! Matty, that's not fair! I pinned you and I won; you just cheated."

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

Giggling and squealing followed as Karl chased his older brother about the orchard, ducking around thick-trunked trees, scurrying over fences and low walls. Matty finally threw herself upon the soft earth and panted, "Fine! I give up if only I can breathe for a moment." His brother climbed up a nearby tree as he did so.

"Molly," Karl addressed his sister, "come up on this branch next to me; I can see father from here." His voice was excited and there was no mistaking a hint of pride in his voice. He loved his father, the king, dearly - as all his siblings did. Tobias led a long and impressive line of warriors. They marched home from a long two weeks of hunting. Although the band of men must have felt immense exhaustion, their heads were high and their strides powerful.

"I can see father at supper. I have no wish to fall off that tree and break my neck."

"Please, Molly! I know you're not afraid; yesterday you were riding Damion even though Father..."

"All right, all right!" Molly cut him off, "I'm simply tired and don't feel like climbing the tree. And anyway, Damion's tame enough."

Matty lifted his head to speak to Molly, "He may be tame, but father doesn't want you near the battle horses, and... Hold on. I think you're mad at father and that's why you don't want to see him. Is that right?" Matty's tone was softer now, and he spoke gently to his sister.

Molly sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, "I feel so trapped, Matty. I'm his only daughter, so he feels this need to protect me. I suppose it would be alright, but I want to feel free to ride his horses and use a bow and arrow. I'm simply not content sitting on an ancient, tame mare or sewing embroidery."

The longing Matty heard in his sister's voice touched him. Although they were competitve and daily contested with one another in various games, they were as close as two humans could be. Not only were they twins; they were best friends. When one was sick, the other tended to them; when one was joyful, the other celebrated. Now, Molly was hurting and Matty's heart ached for her. He knew her nature. He knew that she needed to romp about like her brothers and even learn weaponry. It was in her blood and try as he might, their father could never change Molly.


End file.
